Mr Sandman, Bring Me a Dream
by AngelSilverWolf
Summary: What happens when Arthur Kirkland, an immortal more commonly known as "The Sandman", falls in love with a talented, free spirited human named Alfred F. Jones? To him, well, that's Forbidden Love, but there's something alluring about this one... he just can't resist. UkUs/UsUk!


Hello everyone~! Listen… Fanfiction removed my Spamano fic, "Pirate's Era"….. I'm really sad and all, considering I lost everything…. I didn't save it anywhere! DX I'm so stupid! Don't worry my fellow readers, I will somehow re-write all six chapters…. I /might/ remember some of it, so to those of you wanting to know what happens in the story stick around! I'll try my best to upload chapter one again! :D I don't know when though…. **IT'S THAT BLOODY HIATUS. **So in the mean time my darlings, I give you a UkUs/UsUk fanfiction that I thought about while listening to the classic song, "Mr. Sandman" by the lovely Chordettes~ *By the way, I twisted the legend of Sandman just a wee bit to go with the flow~ **AND THIS IS NOT TOTALLY A SONG FIC OR A ONE SHOT**.* As a warning, I'm just going to say that there will be mentions of past FrUk in this, and as much as I DISLIKE the pairing, it's still going to be _mentioned_! DX UKUS/USUK WILL PREVAIL MY DARLINGS~! Anywhos, enjoy the first chapter~!

* * *

_**~Mr. Sandman, Bring Me a Dream~**_

_**Chapter One: Bring Me a Dream**_

* * *

Okay. So maybe agreeing to this idea wasn't so great. Hell, he didn't feel like moving at all due to the tiresome day he'd spent at work. On the bright side, it was a chance to wash away all of the stress and anger that built up as time went by. The change to release all of his worries - his struggles - such as maintaining his house, making sure his rent was paid on time so that his landlord wouldn't flip his shit.

Arthur Kirkland enjoyed living in America; he thought the tourist attractions and geography of the country was quite appealing to him. Let's not forget the history, in which his own home country has shared in the making of. Of course, it did upset him that they had to bloody gain their so called "freedom", leaving  
America to grow into their own bugger of a country. If only England won that war... America would have been even greater!

But this is besides the point...

Let's focus more on the apartment building, where it still stands in the busy city of New York. Inside the building, in room 423, our stubborn gentleman named Arthur was currently preparing himself for a "guys night out" - or a "let's totally get wasted" evening. The Brit continued to mumble profanities as he fumbled around with his tie, making it straight and perfect as possible. A gentleman must always look his best after all, even if he was on his way to a pub.

You see, on ol' friend of Arthur's has invited him to take a breather. Not too far from his home, was a bar by the name of "_Memoire" _which if his intelligence serves him correctly, the meaning of the name is _memory_. Supposedly, Memoire was a place for those searching for something nostalgic, to bring back old memories, Arthur didn't know. It sounded like a unique place, so his perked interest was the only other reason Arthur was even willing to go.

The only problem with this unique pub...

It's...

...

Ah, it's run by his frienemy named Francis Bonnefoy. Arthur... Arthur can say he's be through a lot with this certain Frenchman. A whole lot. Frowning at remembering the past, Arthur shrugged on his coat and left his apartment, making his way towards the pub which surprisingly was only a two mile walking distance. He was fine with walking, it's the healthy thing to do.

Anyways, Francis and Arthur must be the only people who have the closest relationship with each other on Earth. Are you thinking... the really _close relationship_ wise? Well then, you would be wrong. Or half right. Eh...

Arthur and Francis used to date, but that was a _long _time ago. ...A long time ago...

You see, you would think these two men would be like any ordinary human beings... but because of Arthur, he and Francis (and a few other boys), were totally different from the rest of society.

Let's see...

Yeah, you could say they've dated for about...

...372 years...

Yep.

Arthur Kirkland, Francis Bonnefoy, and some others, were given the gift of immortality. Well, Arthur wouldn't call it a gift... it was more like a curse to him. Regardless, he continues to ignore the fact that he would never get old... never die... never see the light of heaven...

How did they get this gift of immortality you ask? It's simple.

Arthur gifted them. Er, actually, he gifted Francis and Francis gifted his friends and so on and so forth... ANYWAYS, Arthur gave them the gift of immortality.

And how?

He's the Sandman. The Sandman can.

What is a Sandman? It sounds like a magical being, does is not? That you should at least know...

...Arthur thinks it's best not to talk about it now... Being born into immortality and all, you would think he would be used to this sort of stuff...

Talking about his pitiful life story would take a while... And this explanation is too vague...

...

We should head back to the present and wait for the past to reveal itself as time progresses...

Arthur finally arrived at the bar, looking up to see the sign that read "_Memoire" _which shown in bright neon blue letters. How odd... he expected this place to look larger than what was in front of him. He looked to his right then to his left, perking up an eyebrow in confusion.

"That's odd..." He look behind him as well. "There's not a soul in sight. New York is usually busy... Not only is it the assumed capital of the world, but it's also known as the 'City That Never Sleeps'..." Arthur spoke out loud, continuing to state random facts to himself. Sighing, he stood up straight and walked into the bar. "And at the moment, it seems that it's in a slumber..." he mumbled, stopping in front of wide, marvelous looking steps. Having no choice but to walk down them, (the steps being the only thing in front of him), Arthur began hearing the sounds of music with each step and soon he came face to face with a red curtain, the music sounding much clearer and vivid. The Englishman smiled ever so slightly, a small, quick, curious smile - but it left his face just as quick as it came. Pushing the curtain away from him and stepping through, he was welcomed with a roar of music, dancing, laughter, and singing.

Arthur gazed at the beautiful 50's styled bar - the cushioned chairs, mahogany tables, black and white tiled floors, and the lights, beautiful mini chandeliers which shone with a soft, slightly dimmed light. To his right, men and women laughed and drank their hearts away, the bartender happily serving customers with that same smile that he always wore... Arthur had no idea that said man worked as a bartender, but since this was Francis's place, he expected one of his closest friends to work there. A fellow immortal no less.

To his left, Arthur could see the vibrant dance floor; akin to it was a vast stage, decorated with the finest material and lighting equipment.  
Watching partner's dance to the music, he cringed at the thought of ever stepping onto that floor - or the stage for that matter. He was not a resonant dancer, save for knowing how to dance as gracefully like the gentleman he is. The Waltz was something that stayed in his favor. Singing was... a gift he'd been born with, however he's not one to perform in front of an audience.

As he continued to watch the dancers enjoying their moments of happiness and youth, he began to feel a tang of envy, but before it grew any further, Arthur was brought back to the world with a hard slap to his ass.

"B-BLOODY HELL!" He yelped immediately as his assaulter, appeared in front of him with a sly smirk. "F-Francis you arse! What did I say about sneaking up behind and-"

"Aaah~, mon cher~! You made it, I'm so glad~!" Francis put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, causing the Brit to scoff and shrug it off. Francis just chuckled and flipped his hair with a wave of his hair. "And I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it~"

Arthur's cheeks flushed pink and he grumbled in response. "It's not like you were closing anytime soon. I just didn't feel like being punctual to _your _bloody burlesque!"

Francis faked a gasp of surprise and hurt, placing a hand in front of his chest, his brows furrowed in a fake, shocked expression. "Arthur! I invited you here to enjoy yourself! At least show some appreciation, oui~?"

"I'll show my appreciation once your time on Earth has ended." Francis gave an unamused look, a frown replacing his usual grin.

"But cher... I will never die." The Frenchman remained confused for a quick millisecond before understanding what he said. Arthur looked away, crossing his arms, feeling smug. "So that's that~"

Francis pouted and cleared his throat, soon regaining his former composure. Placing a firm hand on Arthur's back, he pushed the Brit towards the bar, his frown back to his normal sly grin. "Aw, come now amour, why don't you just relax and have a drink~? You can order has much as you want, it's on me~" Scoffing, Arthur sat down and turned around, looking at the bartender who, at the moment, was preparing a drink for another customer.

Feeling ignored, Francis placed a hand on Arthur's head and patted his hair. The Frenchman's gaze was not directed at Arthur, but rather the stage on the other side of the building. On the stage, a lovely maiden was singing and dancing, - her black hair tied in two red ribbon's - and she sported an elegant 50's styled blue dress. "You know mon ami, I hope you enjoy the performances today~ There is a reason I invited you here on this night after all~ I'm sure he'll perk your interest~" Arthur blinked and soon realized what Francis was referring to. Gritting his teeth, he looked at the girl dancing and singing on stage and then glared back at Francis. Smacking the Frenchman's hand away, his hands curled into fists as he tried to control his anger. "I am in no need of your _'help', _you bloody** frog**! I am quite content on living alone and I don't need some mere **mortal **to accompany me in my damned life." Squinting his eyes, he glared even harder at Francis, and he lowered his voice to whisper. "I'm a magical being... Born into immortality... I refuse to take the life of a human away by giving them this dreaded _'gift'_!" Turning in his seat, Arthur's gaze fell on the wooden bar table. "...Not again at least..."

At this, Francis only snorted. "Ohonhonhon, come on Arthur, it was my decision too you know~ You offered to give me the gift, and at the time, I was not afraid to accept it~!"

Arthur smacked his face and released a shaky groan. "It was by far the worst decision I've ever made in my time." Francis rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his wavy, luscious hair. "Stop lying to me cher, I know you _love_ having moi around~!" Sighing softly, the Frenchman straightened his vest and placed a hand on his hip. "You know... I _do_ miss the good old days~ I miss you, Arthur..." After pause, he gave a loud clap of his hands to relief the sense of grief in his heart. "But! I know duty calls, eh~?" Francis turned away to leave Arthur in peace, but stopped in his pace to say one more thing. "Oh, by the way, le garçon will be on after the next performance~ The performance is open to anyone, but he took the spot of lead singer. I believe he's singing with his younger brother... who knows who else will grab a mic and sing along~?" Arthur groaned loudly as Francis walked away laughing that French stereotypical laugh of his.

Arthur hoped to God that the bartender was unoccupied and thankfully, with his peripheral vision, he saw that said person was approaching.

The Bartender approached Arthur with that usual, carefree smile. "Welcome~! Would you like anyth- oh~!" The man's smile grew wider. "Arthur! Wow, it's been a while, eh? How have you been mi amigo?"

Arthur smiled lightly; at least this man's happy-go-lucky attitude could easily cheer up anyone he touches. "Hello, Antonio. Yes, it's been a while... I'm fine - just a bit... busy." Arthur rubbed at his temple and sighed, annoyed at how loud those five hooligans at table sixteen were being. Antonio's smiled softened understandingly and he laughed gently. "Ah, I see." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Working for a normal life is difficult, si~? I've been struggling to live my life too~" He picked up a beer glass and started cleaning it. "Ever since Francis made me immortal, I haven't got the chance to fall in love like I wanted to... I suppose I'm a bit scared is all~" He laughed and sighed, making Arthur see a bit of longing and sadness in his eyes. "I haven't lost that sand vial you've given me- and gracias for that by the way..." Arthur nodded and welcomed him. "But I don't feel like making a mortal human an immortal... I-I just feel that I would _take away their life _and they wouldn't be able to grow old and-" Laughing nervously, Antonio's face flushed pink. "Aye, I'm talking too much, aren't I!"

"N-No, you're not!" Arthur cringed as the words Antonio said haunted his mind. _Take away their life..._ "I understand what you mean. I feel the same way, me being _born _as a magical being... Heh. I'm sorry that idiot of a frog turned you without you wanting any of it. I do apologize."

Antonio's smile remained wide and he chuckled. "Ah, really, it's no problem! Lo siento for speaking my feelings! I tend to do that... Is there anything you would like to drink?" Antonio asked, repeating his question from earlier. " I'm sure Francis offered to pay for everything~"

Arthur rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes, he did. I'll have a Scotch please." Antonio gave a nod of his head before preparing Arthur his drink. Arthur had to admit: Antonio was probably one of the few immortals whom he's enjoyed having around. He was an honest, heartfelt man, and he means well. Pleasant dreams for him~

As Arthur waited for his drink, the sound of a new song boomed through the building, causing the Brit to turn his head towards the stage. It was a band playing the song called "Sing, Sing, Sing", this version sounding very similar to Benny Goodman's piece. Ah, the 1930's was a wonderful time of music. Arthur had to admit that music in the early 20th century is a favorite of his... so he might enjoy himself here after all.

As the band on stage performed the song, people from booths and tables got up to dance and swing to the music. It was good to see that people nowadays still take interest in oldies. Arthur watched on quietly with an emotionless expression on his face.

"Here you go Arthur~" Antonio placed Arthur's drink in front of him, making the gentleman jump a little before thanking the Spaniard and taking a sip. He continued to listen to the music, not wanting to watch others dance anymore, and calmly drank his alcohol. _This _was the relaxation he was looking for. Sure the music was loud, but clearing his mind helped him in more ways than one.

Arthur was already half way through his drink when he caught himself twitching his leg to the music. "...I suppose I could dance..." He spoke out loud to himself.

Thinking about it some more, he shook his head. "No, I rather not. I'll make a fool out of myself... God knows I can't dance Swing anyways."

By the time the song finished, Arthur was already asking for another drink. As Antonio winked and served him another glass, Arthur heard the sound of a microphone turning on, with a certain Frenchman's voice echoing through the walls of the bar.

"Ladies and Gentleman, let's give a round of applause to the Nordic 5~! They're an excellent band, I must say~" As the band members bowed to the applauding audience, the blond that stood in the middle of group smirked and jumped off the stage screaming to the top of his lungs how he and his "brothers" were awesome. The man most certainly reminded Arthur of another friend of Francis and Antonio. Rolling his eyes, Arthur waited for Francis's voice to continue. "Our next performance will be a special one~ For those that have previously registered to perform the song **_"Mr. Sandman"_**, you may now take your places on stage~! There are two more spots to be taken by anyone from the crowd~!"

Arthur choked on his beverage and placed it harshly back down on the counter. T-This man was _certainly_ screwing with him, right?! The song just _had _to be about him, correct?! Ugh! Francis had the **nerve**... Well, he shouldn't argue, it _is _a wonderful song after all.

But it just _had_ to be performed by this certain boy whom Francis is trying to lure him to.

Meanwhile, Antonio threw his towel behind him and gasped in surprise. "Arthur! That's your song! That's you-" Arthur reached over the counter and covered the Spaniard's mouth frantically. "Bloody hell, shut up! The whole world doesn't need to know that!" After Antonio nodded is head happily, Arthur let go which resulted in the Spaniard jumping over the counter excitedly. "Well, mi amigo, I don't know about you, but I am totally going up there to sing it~! I love that song~! You should come too~!" Arthur's mouth flew open to warn Antonio that he shouldn't just leave his post as bartender, but stopped as Francis's booming voice projected in the air once more.

"Alright, we have two more people~! Time for introductionsss~!" Francis sang the last word, Arthur knowing that it was directed at him. He didn't need for some bloody mortal to be introduced to him! He was not planning on interacting with him anyways!

"In spot four we have Nikola Georgiev~!" A dark haired, fair skinned man with greyish eyes entered the stage, dressed in an olive green tux. Although the color was an odd one, it suited him well. With a nod of his head, he waved as the crowd clapped and welcomed his entrance. "In spot three, we have-... A-Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" You could hear the pause and choke of Francis's voice as he said the Spaniard's name. Antonio walked out from behind the curtain with a joyous expression of his face; he was pratically boucing in his steps, radiating with sushine and everything nice. Once he walked up to the mic, he waved to the audience and winked, causing the whole place to cheer like crazy mad. While being cheered, Antonio looked to where Francis was standing -who was standing next to the kitchen door where the P.A. system was- and sent him a goofy, apologetic look. The Frenchman returned the look with a hard glare, probably upset that Antonio abandoned his post, but the Spaniard was quick to point towards the bartable. As the Frenchman looked towards the bar, Arthur could hear a certain, unmistakble laugh emit from behind him.

"Kesesese~" Arthur turned his head to see none other than Gilbert Bielschmidt, another immortal and best friend of Francis and Antonio's. The self-proclaimed Prussian man, was standing behind the bartable, smirking and winking at Francis while washing a beer glass with a cloth. Francis pursed his lips and gave both Antonio and Gilbert an amused look.

The audience, besides our gentleman, was too occupied to see this small, silent interaction between the trio. Arthur impatiently tapped his knee cap, turning his attention back to the stage. Francis's voice continued.

"In spot two, we have Matthew Williams~! ... Ooo, Matthieu, I didn't know you were singing too, ohonhon~!" Francis's eyes leered at the sight of a blond, violet-eyed man entering the stage sheepishly. It seemed that the boy's face was quite flushed, probably due to hearing the Frenchman's tone of voice. Arthur didn't know this boy, but he has heard the name Matthew pop up in certain conversations with Francis. Apparently, he was known for being a bit timid and soft spoken, and the frog would always comment that the Canadian boy had the bad habit of disappearing from sight. That would always make Arthur want to question him, but aside from that...

Arthur's ears perked up to the sound of a choked moan behind him. Slightly turning his head, he saw Gilbert staring at the stage with sparkles in his eyes; their blood-reddish hue practically glowing. The Brit waved his hand in front of him, and after gaining no response from the frozen-in-place immortal, he turned his attention back to the stage and shrugged off what he thought was just Gilbert's stupidity.

Anyways, there was an awkward silence as Matthew went up to his microphone, but as soon as the boy touched it, the crowd gasped as if just seeing him, and applauded. There were whispers such as "Did you see that? He popped out of no where!" and "Damn, the kid some sort of magician?". Arthur made a face and questioned himself if the crowd was actually drunk or not. It was obvious the Canadian was visible the whole time but... perhaps what Francis said about him could be true. He'd have to look into that...

Arthur could have sworn he heard a giggle come from the Frenchman's mouth right before he spoke for his final announcement. "And last, but very, _very_ not least, give a warm welcome to the cher in spot number one, Alfred F. Jones~!" As he said that name, Francis was not looking at the stage to watch this "Alfred" walk out, but rather giving Arthur a grin expression, and the Englishman looked away to stop the tension building up around him; also because curiosity is getting the best of him and he is really anxious to see this Jones boy. _  
_

Red curtains were pulled back by two pairs of hands, and out walked the most godly-looking human being Arthur had ever laid eyes on.

Alfred's hair was a luscious color of dirty blond, his natural highlights beaming as the spotlight reflected off his head; he even had a stubborn piece of hair- a cowlick you could say- standing up and curving upwards in ever the most gentlest way. His tall, well built body- as you could tell from behind his beautiful white suit- made him look strong and broad. That smile of his... that alluring smile... projected pearly whites and soft lips. But Arthur's favorite thing about him is... his eyes.

Those eyes that shine like the cleanest, bluest part of the sea; that sparkled like a shooting star filled with hope, determination, and adventure. Looking at those eyes, Arthur could tell that this boy was definetely something... s-special... and oh, how he _wished_ those eyes would turn and look directly into his.

Arthur's eyes grew wide and his face boiled up as he realized what he was thinking to himself. All the while, he felt Francis continue to look at him and only him, which made Arthur feel even more uncomfortable due to the fact that the Frenchman would not stop fucking _grinning._

The Englishman crossed his arms and swallowed, finally controlling his face to wear a pout.

He was not going to succumb to this heavenly creature.

He had to make sure of it! ... Else, he'll never hear the end of the frog's mouth.

Alfred took his place on the front of the stage, and grasped the microphone stand into his hand. He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows to the audience, and immediately, everyone went balistic.

It seemed that the four men on stage were quite appealing to the audience, judging by the fact that people were screaming obnoxious things such as wanting to fuck or marry them. They were being utter fangirls/fanboys, and the group hasn't even started performing yet.

The lights of the stage dimmed, creating spotlights on the four boys. The second that happened, everyone had ceased their bickering and waited to hear the marvelous voices that these four held. The four performers bowed their heads, looking down to their feet, and the Brit was curious as to how they all knew what to do in sync formation.

And so, Arthur's title song commenced.

At the first note of the song, Alfred tapped his foot, following the rest of the melody, and when Arthur knew it was time for them to sing, the four boys lifted their head and began:

_Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung_

_Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung_

_Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung_

_Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung_

_Bung, bung, bung, bung, bung_

_Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream_

_Make him the cutest that I've ever seen_

_Give him two lips like roses and clover_

_Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over_

_Sandman, I'm so alone_

_Don't have nobody to call my own_

_Please turn on your magic beam_

_Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream..._

As each of the four continued "bunging", Arthur couldn't stop his heart from swelling up inside of him. He felt like his insides were going to explode, but at the same time, he felt as stiff and frozen as the ice in his drink. All four sang in harmony beautifully... each had their own tone of voice, which made the song sound absolutely oustanding. But this boy... Alfred...

Indeed has the voice of an angel.

_Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream_

_Make him the cutest that I've ever seen_

_Give him the word that I'm not a rover_

_Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over_

_Sandman, I'm so alone_

_Don't have nobody to call my own_

_Please turn on your magic beam_

_Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream_

Arthur heard the way that Alfred sang... he concentrated on his voice as it flowed with the song, still in disbelief that one could hold such a voice.

And then it struck him. The Englishman's pout slowly turned into smile, then into a grin. Nobody has ever struck this much amount of interest into Arthur. The song- being that it was about himself- was favored even more when this boy sang it. The lyrics lured Arthur into... into wanting him. This... is where we find the Sandman lovestruck. Arthur decided that this human will very much gain most of his attention.

It was then that Arthur also decided that Alfred F. Jones will have his wish granted, as so the song states.

For their third round of "bunging", Arthur knew the moment in the song where the "Sandman" actually speaks. So, he felt the need to actually speak~

_Mr. Sandman- _

Arthur's eyes suddenly glowed a bright gold color and he concentrated on Alfred's mind. "_ Yeeees~_?" he said along with the voice in the song.

Arthur chuckled to himself as he watched those beautiful blue eyes grow wide and blink rapidly, but thankfully he kept his posture and continued singing.

What? He was only teasing him~

- _bring us a dream_

_Give him a pair of eyes with a come-hither gleam_

_Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci_

_And lots of wavy hair like Liberace_

_Mr. Sandman, someone to hold_

_Would be so peachy before we're too old_

_So please turn on your magic beam_

_Mr. Sandman, bring us, please, please, please_

_Mr. Sandman, bring us a dream_

The four gifted singers finished off the final part of the song, and once the music instruments finished playing from the speakers, the whole crowd stood up- if they weren't already- and screamed to the top of their lungs, some begging for an encore, some begging for their innoncence to be taken away.

But what was Arthur doing? He was looking at a certain boy who was laughing and bowing to the lively room.

Yes, tonight, he will meet him, Arthur decided. Not exactly face to face but...

This is going to be the night that Arthur Kirkland, a.k.a. "The Sandman" , will bring Alfred F. Jones a dream.


End file.
